


The Shadows of the Night

by LadyLoec



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas, MAAS Sarah J. - Works
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, My First Smut, POV Rhysand (ACoTaR), Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-20 07:20:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13712715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLoec/pseuds/LadyLoec
Summary: Rhys senses Feyre in distress from a nightmare and goes to comfort her, but things aren't quite as they seem (angsty smut). Oneshot set during ACOMAF when they are staying in the Illyrian camps, the night before they head off to train in the forest and have the encounter with Lucien.





	The Shadows of the Night

**Author's Note:**

> Well here's my first attempt at smut! I've tried to keep the characterisation strong through this, so because it's Rhys POV there's a fair bit of angst and self-deprecation before we get to 'the good stuff'.

The day had been long and exhausting, but rewarding. I spent most of it sparring with Azriel and Mor, rebuilding muscles that had long since wasted in the years Under the Mountain. In the Illyrian camp where we were staying, seeing us sparring was good for morale as well. And of course, a lot of my effort went into trying to keep my eyes from straying to where Feyre trained with Cassian. She had come so far in such a short time with both her magic and her fighting, you would assume she'd been born to it. Feyre and I had both retired early - we were both tired from training, but we also had an early start.

I was just drifting off when a shiver pulsed down the bond. If I'd have been asleep, it wouldn't have been enough to wake me, but I knew from these past months that it was only a matter of time before the nightmare took hold and I'd be rushing to her room to wake her. I wished so desperately I could take her suffering from her, but it was hers to process, and I knew that her nightmares (and my own) would fade with time. As it would seem I caught this one early, I might be able to soothe her without waking her.

  
I traversed the bond between us - second nature now - to run a soothing caress down those adamant walls. To let her know she wasn't alone. But I almost stumbled and fell right in when I realised her shields weren't even up. What I saw cleaved my heart in two.  
  
The Court of Nightmares. I was on my ebony-black throne with her perched on my lap, a predatory, almost feral look on my face as my fingers circle her thighs and breasts. An audience of shocked, leering, and disgusted faces leering up at us. I knew it had been a mistake to take her to that depraved hole in the ground, to let her debase herself by playing that role with me, but now... My worst fear made flesh: I was her nightmare.

She said that she saw me behind the mask, but really what was the difference? Both were monstrous in their own ways. In spite of myself, a part of me had enjoyed toying with her. More than enjoyed it, it had rendered me practically bestial. I had thought she was ok with it, even dared to think she was more than that - when I found her thighs slick to my touch, I thought she was actually enjoying herself. So deluded... Of all people who should know that the body's reaction means nothing, all those years serving in Amarantha's bed as her whore, and now I'd made Feyre mine. I thought of how I'd felt with Amarantha's hands on me - how my hands must have felt on Feyre that day, my arousal impossible to ignore at her back - and it made me feel sick.

  
What could I do? I couldn't be the one to wake her. If she woke to my touch, to my face, it would only make things worse - nightmare become flesh. I could get Mor, but how could I tell her? How could I explain...

  
Another shiver down the bond, and what might have been a whimper. I couldn't stand this. I was about to pull myself back down the bond to get Mor when:  
  
_Rhys_  
  
It wasn't a call, or a plea for me to stop it was... Cauldron, was that a _moan?!_ I ripped myself out of my self pity and tried explore the scene before me objectively, gently feeling for her physical state without making myself known. If my physical self wasn't laying in bed, I'd have fallen on my ass... She was laying in her bed as expected, but her hands were roaming her breasts and thighs, brushing against her sex. She was awake... And touching herself.  
  
This wasn't a nightmare, it was a fantasy. _I_  was her fantasy. She... I...  
  
Conscious thought escaped me for a while as I watched. Fantasy-me was kissing her neck and gently biting her earlobe, my left hand running over her breasts - her peaked nipples painfully visible through that gauzy excuse for a dress that left nothing to the imagination - while my right ran those lazy circles over her inner thigh. Then under her dress. Then...  
  
I was rock hard and stifling a moan of my own when fantasy-me plunged a finger into her, leaving a thumb to run over her apex. She gasped and ground into my lap. Wanton and heedless of her audience - real and imagined.  
  
Cauldron boil me. I knew I should leave. Shields or not, this was a gross invasion of her privacy. I should get out before... Wherever this was going. None of my business.  
  
She moaned. Another finger....  
  
All chivalry and sense of self-preservation left me as that moan escaped her lips. I wasn't going anywhere. I took myself in hand as I wondered if I could take control of fantasy-me. The thought had barely formed and I'd done it (I'm usually so in control of my powers, this damned female). It was almost too much as I felt my fingers slick inside her, my hand squeezing her breast more roughly than before. I would have to watch it or I'd get caught. She ground against me and I let out a guttural growl. By all the forgotten gods, five centuries of magical mastery and expert self-control undone by one grind of her hips.   
  
She turned to me and her eyes met mine with a dreamy, lusty haze I mimicked with my own. She rolled smoothly so she was straddling me, and I bit down a snarl as my fingers came free of her, until I realised she was reaching for my belt, her hand deftly undoing the clasp and slipping  under my clothes. I shifted and moaned as she touched me - lost in the scent and feel of her as she guided me to her entrance. Her eyes bore deep into mine as I felt her wetness on the tip of me and...  
  
I felt a physical jolt as the scene changed before me. I could have roared with frustration. Maybe I'd gone too far and it wasn't working for her anymore. It was certainly working for me, but I should be thankful - the Mother only knows what would've happened if I'd finished while inside her mind.

She now pictured the living room in the townhouse. A fire crackled in the hearth and there were scented oils in labelled bottles on the table. A soft glow in the room stood in stark contrast to the harshness of our previous environment - this was a much more romantic setting, though I couldn't see either of us there.  
  
A cold breeze tumbled through the door as two figures walked in. Az and Cass, shirtless and breathless from sparring, with a sheen of sweat and dirt. Azriel said something I didn't hear as he fixed Cassian with an intense glare. Cass reached for the oils as Az reached lower...  
  
GODS NO. I hauled out of there as fast as my considerable mental powers allowed. A soft breathy chuckle followed down the bond:  
  
_Rhysand!_ She gave it a decidedly sarcastic and scandalised tone. _Don't you know it's rude to enter a lady's thoughts without her permission?_  
  
Well, shit. So much for not getting caught. I regained some of my composure before replying.  
  
_Such judgmental moralising cannot possibly apply in this case as you are clearly no lady. And I much prefer how you said my name before. You know, when you were moaning it... Can you do that again?_  
  
Another chuckle.  
  
_Did you like what you saw?_  
  
She was aiming for husky, but I could hear the smug smirk in her voice. Cruel, wicked thing that she was. Gods, when did she become the forward one?  
  
_Apart from the end part, which serves to ensure it will be at least half a century before I can look either my general or my shadowsinger in the eye again._ I took a moment to indulge my jealous hope that the last scene was conjured just to rile me, and wasn't a regular feature in her fantasy life.  
  
She laughed. Different this time: A beautiful sound, like pealing bells.  
  
_I'm sorry, but how is that any of your business?_

I briefly pondered the consequences of killing both of my brothers-in-arms. I was about to come up with a witty retort when...

_Such a shame. I was having so much fun before you so rudely interrupted. Now I suppose I shall have to go to sleep unsatisfied._ _  
_  
The challenge in her voice set me on fire. I wondered if I should just winnow across to join her right now.  
  
A wordless hesitation down the bond. Not ready. She wasn't ready for that kind of intimacy yet. Not so soon after... him.   
  
The fire in me cooled a little at that. This beautiful creature who had been through so much. Though I longed to touch her, to feel her breath on my skin, I would wait for her. Wait forever if that's what she needed. I sent a caress down the bond. Her shields had snapped back up and I ran my claws gently down them. A request: _Let me in._  
  
_This had better be good, High Lord._  
  
Another lick of desire ran through me. I flicked through my mental files of fantasies for one to share, ruling out those in which I declared my feelings for her, those in which I called her my mate. With a frown I noted how few remained, and that they were of a mostly... unrestrained nature involving no words at all, certainly not the first impression I wanted her to have of me sexually. I selected one that was a companion to the one she had unwittingly showed me, and wordlessly asked again to be let in. Her shields opened a fraction - not lowered, but opened like a robe. Sensually, if that was even possible, and I poured my vision into that chamber of her mind.  
  
We were back in the Court of Nightmares. No audience - I wanted her to myself. This time, though I wasn't on the throne: She was, wearing a crown of raven feathers. And I knelt in front of her.   
  
We'd entered this particular scene partway through (I couldn't have hear me call her "High Lady" - again, too many questions). I was rested between her thighs with her legs hooked over my shoulders, running tongue and gentle teeth along her inner thighs and the crease of her hip.   
  
I felt her shudder with approval at the end of the bond as she moved her fingers back between her thighs. _Keep going_. She hadn't thrown me back out, which was a start.  
  
I ran my tongue through the soaked centre of her, flicking gently as I reached her apex. She moaned as, in another world, she mimicked the motion with her fingers, and I too returned my hand to it's steady rhythm on my own body. Kneeling before that throne, I began feasting on her, my tongue exploring and savouring every part of her. Her breath quickened as I slid a finger in, pumping while I continued to work her with my tongue. My other hand ran gentle nails down the back of her thigh as she pushed against me. She was already close.

My eyes met hers as she looked down on me through glazed eyes. Without breaking that stare, I slid in another finger and crooked them inside her. Stroking that sensitive spot in an unspoken command. _Come for me. Come with me._  
  
She broke around me, gripping the back of the throne with one hand and the other twisting in my hair. Cauldron, the filthy words that came out of those perfect red lips (that was her doing - not in the original fantasy, but I'm definitely keeping it). Her eyes returned to mine as her pleasure tore through her and I lost myself in her, spilling myself on my stomach. I drifted back down the bond, tearing myself away from her, wondering if to stay longer would have been an intimacy we hadn't attained yet.  
  
I cleaned myself up and returned to bed, the ghost of her scent still on me. 

_Rhys?_

A sleepy whisper through the bond.

_Yes, Feyre darling?_

_Not now, but soon._

I knew what she meant, and my heart leapt, hoping against hope that she might grow to want more. Just earlier tonight, I'd thought I was her nightmare, and now there was a promise... Soon.

_I serve at your pleasure, darling._ I sent a cheeky snapshot of my head between her legs on that throne for good measure.

_Prick_

I chuckled as I fell asleep. Neither of us woke from nightmares.

-

The next morning, I hoped the others wouldn't notice the spring in my step. I rounded the corner into the kitchen, where I was the last to arrive for breakfast. Azriel and Cassian were eating in the kitchen (a little unusual), and I could hear Amren, Mor and Feyre laughing in the dining room. As I saw Cass portioning up a frankly ridiculous amount of food, images from the little interlude Feyre had fed me last night couldn't help but make an appearance and I suddenly found the grain of the floorboards incredibly interesting while I portioned out some oatmeal; Cass didn't notice when I avoided looking at him as I wished him a good morning. Ever observant, Az definitely clocked the lack of eye contact and I caught a raised eyebrow in my peripheral vision, but he was smart enough to keep quiet. I made a mental note to make her pay for that one, and to remove anything resembling oils from the townhouse.

I crossed the threshold into the dining room, when Mor raised an eyebrow in my direction. I was about to ask what was up when the scent hit me like a thunderbolt. Feyre hadn't bathed, and the smell of her arousal almost made me stumble over my shoes. I looked at her and her eyes were burning into me. She knew full well everyone would smell it on her, but it was meant for me as she wished me a chaste "good morning". I returned her greeting and answered the completely unsubtle questioning in Mor's face with what I hoped was a nonchalant shrug, but honestly I was so intoxicated I have no idea if it came across that way. It suddenly made sense why Az and Cass were eating in the kitchen and the territorial and primal part of me had my blood boiling in my veins for a moment at the thought she'd let them smell her like that. I quickly put myself in check, but not without bending the spoon I'd been holding.

"So, where are we training today?" Feyre asked sweetly, sipping her tea.

I'd told her yesterday that I'd planned to take her a little further out today, to a place which would involve a lengthy flight and an overnight stay...

Mother have mercy, she was going to be the death of me.


End file.
